Bittersweet Revenge
by Inconceivable Me
Summary: The only girl Draco Malfoy ever loved has been murdered. Now he's desperate for revenge. Based off the song The Greatest Story Ever Told by ICE NINE KILLS.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- Well, before I begin, I've got a few things to say. This is my first fic, so please let me know how I do. Anything italicized is a direct line from the song The Greatest Story Ever Told by ICE NINE KILLS, which is an awesome song by the way. Originally, this was going to be a one-shot, but it got too long, so it will probably be 4 or 5 chapters.**

**Disclaimer****- Anything you recognize belongs to either J.K. Rowling, ICE NINE KILLS, or The Who. **

"I love you, Hermione" I whisper, gently stroking her cheek. She looks at me with unadulterated happiness shining in those big expressive eyes, and replies with the most wonderful words I've ever heard.

"I love you, too, Draco." I smile and lower my head to greet her lips with my own-

"Ever since I was a young boy, I've played the silver ball -" I groan. 'Stupid muggle contraption,' I think, glaring at the cell phone. Hermione had given me the damn thing for my last birthday, as well as picked out that awful song for the "ring tone," I think she had called it. I briefly consider ignoring whoever interrupted my dreaming, but decide against it and answer.

"Hullo?"

"Draco? Draco! I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you! I need you to come over here now! Please! Please help me!"

"Wait, Hermione? What's wrong? You're not making any sense! What-"

_"Listen closely as I tell you I'm not who I seem. I'm gonna touch you cause I like it when you scream. I want to watch you when you're sleeping and thinking of me!" _That is definitelynot Hermione. It sounds more like that bastard of a boyfriend of hers, Chase. I hear a bone-chilling scream come from the phone. Fuck, I need to get over there. Fast.

I don't even bother with clothes. I'm wearing pajama pants- that's good enough. I just grab my wand off my bedside table and apparate outside Hermione's apartment building. It's in wizarding London, so it's got numerous wards around it, including anti-apparation and sound-proofing, which means the neighbors wouldn't have heard anything going on in Hermione's flat. It also has anti-muggle wards, so she couldn't call the muggle police to rescue her, and since the magical world does not have phones, she probably doesn't have a quick enough means to contact the aurors. I doubt she'd call any of her other friends, since I'm the only one that knew about the abuse her boyfriend puts her through. I'm probably her only hope.

With that in mind, I rush into the building, running all the way up to her flat on the seventh floor. I don't bother knocking, just barge right in. The door is unlocked. I try not to take it as a bad sign.

"Hermione!" It's dark and quiet. That doesn't mean anything, right? Maybe Hermione and Chase sorted out their problems calmly like mature adults and now Hermione is sleeping peacefully in her bed.

Hesitantly, I raise my wand and magic it alight. And there, lying on her living room floor, is Hermione. She is completely still- lacking even the subtle rise and fall of the chest that indicates breathing.

_'Am I dreaming again?_ Please, Merlin, let this be a dream!' I think desperately as I run over to her. "Hermione?" I say her name quietly, almost as if I'm afraid to wake her. I sit next to her and gingerly touch her cheek. There is a nasty gash running from her left eye to her swollen lips. Her right eye is bruised and swollen shut, but her left eye seems to be staring at me, the ever-present in them gone. My eyes wander down her form. Merlin, her neck looks like raw meat! A shard of glass protrudes from her bloody left shoulder. Her entire body seems to be covered in bruises, both new and old. The part of her nightgown that covers her stomach is completely drenched blood.

"Oh, Hermione!" I croak out. _"I'm sorry, sorry don't go! Oh please God no!"_ I don't even believe in this God that Hermione always went on about, but for some reason, the words seem right. "Please, don't leave me! I won't let you! Episkey! Anapneo!" I proceed to try every healing spell I know. Nothing works, though I don't think I'd really expected it to. After I run out of spells, I give up. I consider calling the healers, but I know it's too late for her. And I want to spend little more time with her before she is taken away from me forever, so I decide to wait to summon anyone, and instead stay by her side.

"How could you have let this happen, Hermione? I warned you! Didn't I tell you he was bad news? But you didn't listen. 'He just has a bit of a temper. He's really a nice guy,' you told me! And now look at you!" I was starting to get angry. "And how did a muggle manage to best you, the brightest witch of our age, anyway? You could have stopped him any time! Why didn't you?" I am crying now, but I couldn't care less." I just lost the only girl I've ever loved, though she never knew how I feel about her. I want to stay next to her forever and just cry like a little girl. But of course fate would not award me even that luxury.

I don't know how long I sit with Hermione, caressing her face and stroking her hair. It could be minutes, hours, even days for all I care. Nothing matters to me anymore. But eventually the Aurors come. I am in a daze. I barely register a pair of hands forcing my own behind my back and enclosing my wrists with cold metal. I don't hear a word that the owner of those hands says as he natters away about Merlin knows what. I do, however, notice when someone tries to pull me away from the dead brunette on the floor. That is when all hell breaks loose.

"NO! HERMIONE!" I scream at the top of my lungs. I can't let them take her away from me. I start struggling, and end up elbowing the guy restraining me in the groin. The moment he lets go, I run straight for her, only to be grabbed again by three more Aurors. I don't stop fighting, though; I have to get to Hermione. I manage to break one man's nose and throw the woman off me when I hear a distant "stupefy!" and all goes black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Anything italicized is a line from the song The Greatest Story Ever Told by ICE NINE KILLS. Most of the characters and places come from the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling.**

The memories of last night come flooding back the moment I come to. There is no blissful moment when I could think it had all been a dream. No, the woman I love is gone, and there is no pretending otherwise.

I barely notice my surroundings enough to register that I'm not in my house, or in my own clothes. Where I am, though, I don't know. Don't know, don't care. I just want to lie where I am, never move again, and grieve.

I guess the universe has other ideas for me, though. I am staring blankly at the rocky ceiling, lost in thoughts about Hermione, when a woman, maybe a few years older than I am, enters the room. I vaguely realize that the whole wall where the door is located is made up entirely of bars.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy. I'm Penelope Clearwater, your lawyer." She holds out her hand in greeting, which I ignore.

"What do I need a lawyer for?" She drops her hand and stares at me for a moment.

"Mr. Malfoy, you're being tried for the murder of Hermione Granger." She watches me intently as I process what she has told me.

'I guess that answers where I am,' I think, looking around with new eyes. Of course I'm in Azkaban. It seems kind of obvious now.

'Wait a minute, they think I killed her! They think I killed Hermione!' I'm outraged.

"No. No! I didn't kill her! I could never! It was that fucking boyfriend of hers, Chase Miller! He's the sick bastard who gets off on treating defenseless women like shit, not me!"

"I believe you, Mr. Malfoy. Hermione was a friend and colleague of mine. She always spoke very highly of you." I don't know why this surprised me. I should have guessed that my lawyer and Hermione would have known each other. Due to her lack of a muggle education, Hermione had been unable to secure a decent job in the non-magical world, even though she was desperate to escape from magic. So, after five months of futile job hunting in the muggle world, she had settled for working for the Ministry of Magic in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She often worked very closely with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, so it only makes sense that they would have come in contact with each other. "However, pretty much the rest of the wizarding world is convinced that you did kill her. I'm going to be frank with you, Mr. Malfoy. Winning is going to be tough. Even with an iron-clad defense, they still might convict you. The Ministry has been waiting two years for an excuse to arrest you again, and this is the perfect opportunity."

Of course. To them, I'm a Death Eater who escaped justice. Who cares about finding the man who actually committed murder when you can arrest someone you've always wanted to lock up?

"We will, of course, still try our best to win. So, I need you to tell me about your relationship with Miss Granger." I glare at her.

"If they've already made up our minds, then what's the point?" I ask bitterly. What does it matter, anyways? Hermione is gone, so what is there to care about any more?

"The point is, even if we can't get you off completely, we still can try to get you a light sentence." She must notice that her argument isn't affecting me, because she continues. "Draco, Hermione wouldn't have wanted you to be locked in a cell in perpetual misery for the rest of your life. You know that! She would have wanted you to do something with your life."

She's right. Hermione would have wanted me to do something productive. And I have just the thing in mind.

"Alright, what do you want to know?"

"Let's start with the basics. How did the two of you become friends? What exactly was the nature of your relationship?"

I really do not want to answer Clearwater's questions. They are way too personal. But I know I have to be absolutely truthful if I'm ever going to get out of here. So I look back up at the ceiling and spill my guts out to a total stranger.

"I love Hermione Granger, plain and simple, though we were never 'together'. We've been friends since the war ended. She, Potter, and Weasley had stuck up for me and my mum during the Death Eater trials; the trio was the only reason we had both gotten off easy. You probably knew that already, though.

"Anyways, two years ago, when we had returned to Hogwarts for our 8th year, I only had Hermione, Potter, and a reluctant Weasel by my side. About three-quarters of the school was convinced that I was a murderous Death Eater that deserved be rotting away in Azkaban, and the other fourth considered me a traitor for not rotting in Azkaban with the rest of the Death Eaters. Though Potter and I became friendly, I know I would have never been able to get through that year without Hermione. She became my closest friend, my confidant. I could tell her anything, and I would know she wouldn't judge me. In return, she told me her darkest secrets, like when her romantic relationship with Weasel wasn't feeling right anymore, or when she was desperate to feel normal, without the stress of magic and reputation." Merlin, I really hate revealing Hermione's secrets. But I know it's too important not to.

"I'm not sure when I began to fall for her, but I did. Hard. And I knew I could never tell her. I couldn't risk losing her; there was no doubt in my mind that I would lose it completely without her. Now I have lost her, and she will never know how I feel about her.

"It really is all my fault that she's gone. Maybe if I had been able to say the right thing to convince her not to, when she told me she was wanted to live as a muggle for a while for a bit of normalcy, she would still be alive. Maybe then she would have had her wand on her to defend herself, or maybe she wouldn't have been dating Chase. But no, the only thing I had been able to do is convince her to live in a magic-protected flat after we graduated, because I thought it would be safer for her. That plan turned out just grand, didn't it?" I laugh bitterly and look over at Clearwater. She's finishing writing notes on my monologue. Merlin, I feel like a one of those pathetic people who spill their heart out to a shrink.

"Well, that was informative. I never knew that Hermione was so tired of the magical world." She said as she looked up.

"Yeah, not many people did. Wasn't exactly something she advertized. The pressures of being famous and branded 'the brightest witch of our age' were getting to her, though. It was the reason why she didn't go into a field that involved more spell-work, though. And I'm positive that it was the reason why she clinged to her muggle boyfriend, even though I'm sure she knew he wasn't right for her."

Clearwater looked deep in thought for a moment. "You know, I've been suspicious of this boyfriend for a while now. We worked together for about six months, and for about the last three, her movements have seemed very cautious, like she's afraid of getting hurt. And every one in a while, I notice a bruise on her arm when her sleeve slides up or a cut on her stomach when her shirt rides up. Do you know anything about that?"

Ok, I really don't want to talk about this. Just thinking about what he did to Hermione makes me see red. It's crucial that Clearwater knows about it, though, so I take calming breath. The cell is silent for a moment as I gather my thoughts.

"I remember the first time he hit her like it was yesterday. It was early in the morning, the day after Valentine's Day, and I had just begun reading the sports section in the Daily Prophet. The Wimborne Wasps had just creamed the Chudley Cannons, 260 to 30.

'"Cannons scored a whole three times. I'm shocked!' I snorted as my house elf, Palmy, brought me my breakfast. And yes, I do pay my house elves, thanks to Hermione's incessant nagging.

'"Master, Miss Hermione is here. She is coming through the floo,' the elf squeaked.

'"Hermione? Where is she? Well, what are you waiting for- take me to her!' I demanded. Hermione had already given me my cell phone the month before, which I'm sure you saw in evidence, so I was anxious. Why was she at my house so early without calling first?

'"Yes, Master.' Palmy bowed and led me to my study in the left wing on the second floor.

"Hermione was staring out the window with her back to me when I entered the room. I thought this odd; usually, she would browse through the many shelves of books that line my study when she waited for me.

'"Hey Hermione.' She jumped, like she had been taken off guard. Also unusual. After spending months running and hiding from sick monsters who would torture her mercilessly until she begged for death if they ever had the chance, Hermione was impossible to sneak up on. She was always very aware of what went on around her.

'"Oh, hi Draco!' Her tone was way too cheery, even for her.

'"Ok, what's wrong?'

'"Nothing is wrong. I just wanted to see you!' She smiled brightly. Her words made my heart swell, but I knew that she wasn't being totally honest. Something was up and I was gonna find out what.

'"Don't give me that bullshit. Something is wrong and you are going to what. Don't even try to deny it!' She had opened her mouth, probably to refute me, but she promptly closed it. 'You come to my house unannounced early on a Tuesday morning when you should be at work, you choose to daydream instead of read, and then I catch you completely off guard. Not to mention the way you're acting, it's way too happy. It's creepy! So tell me right now, what the hell is wrong!'

'"Nothing. Is. Wrong.' She annunciated each word slowly, as if that would convince me she was fine. She dropped the happy act, though. She was glaring at me, and I was glaring right back, neither willing to budge. It almost felt like we were back in school and I'd just called her a mudblood for the umpteenth time.

"All of a sudden, Hermione's façade broke, and she was sobbing uncontrollably. 'Oh Draco, Chase and I had a fight. It was awful!' That's all she managed to get out before her crying got the best of her, and I knew she wouldn't be able to tell me any more until she calmed down. I walked over to her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, letting her cry into my chest.

'"Shh, it's ok Mione, let it out. I'm sure that whatever happened was his fault. He's a bloody idiot.' I whispered into her hair. Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say; it actually made her bawling worsen. I began rubbing her back to try and sooth her. She jumped back and let out a small whimper. It was like I had hurt her.

'"What is it now? Did I do something wrong?'

"She frantically shook her head. 'Oh, no! It's not you. It's…' She trailed off.

'"What is it, Hermione? Cause I'm at a loss.'

"For a moment, she looked frightened, like she had no idea what to do. I had never seen her like this before. It was alarming, to say the least.

"Hesitantly, Hermione lifted up the hem of her shirt. For a brief second, I was confused. Why was she showing me her purple undershirt? Then a gasp escaped my lips when I realized that that was not a shirt. Her belly was a collage of the blacks, purples and blues of contusions.

'"My back's the same. It's just… tender right now.' She said as she pulled her shirt down.

'"Tender? Fuck Hermione, that looks downright painful! Did Chase do that to you, cause if he did, I will kill him!' I was pissed. How could anyone do that to someone so innocent?

'"Draco, no! Don't hurt him. It was my fault anyways. He wanted to be…intimate last night, but I said I wasn't ready.' She looked about ready to cry again.

"Last night? This happened hours ago and you didn't come to me until right now? You should always come to me as soon as you have a problem, alright?' She nodded. 'Good. And now listen here. What happened was not your fault. No gentleman hits a lady, no matter the reason. And no decent man will try to force a woman into having sex, especially not one he cares about. Remember that, Hermione. I trust you left that bastard after this?'

'"Not yet, but I'm planning on doing it tonight.'

'"Good. Come by afterwards to let me know how it went. I want to know that you're ok.' She agreed.

"There had been many things I'd been expecting when Hermione came by that evening. I'd been prepared for hugging, crying, hating, blaming, hysterics, screaming, hitting, a medley of offensive spells directed both at me and the priceless artifacts that grace the halls of my manor (like I even gave a shit about those), and ice cream and chick-flick cravings. After all, I knew that the girl loved the damn guy, even after what he did to her. What I wasn't expecting was exactly what I got: a beaming Hermione. And it was by no means fake. I was truly boggled.

"I didn't have to wonder long, though. As soon as she saw me, she ran over to hug me. 'Draco, it's ok. Chase apologized for what happened!'

'"You didn't forgive him, did you?'

'"Of course did, silly! I love him.'

"A sharp pain shot through my heart. 'Why can't you love me instead? I'd be much better for you, to you!' I wanted to shout at her. But I didn't. I just took a deep breath to calm myself, and said instead, 'And you're still with him? After he used you as his personal punching bag?'

'"Draco, he apologized. He told me he loves me and that it won't happen again. He said he'd do anything for me.' Her eyes bore into mine. They were alight with happiness, I hated that I was about to extinguish that. But I knew I had to.

"I led her over to the nearest sofa and we both sat. 'Hermione, you need to listen to me. _You might think you're in love, and he might promise you the world. Don't believe what he says, he's not real._ He's lying to you, Mione. No man would hurt the woman he loves.'

'"You're wrong. He does love me. I know he does.' She crossed her arms. I knew her well enough to know that she was now 'stubborn and determined' mode, and anything else I would have said against her relationship with the bastard would have just made things worse. So, I tried for a different angle.

'"Fine, you're the know-it-all, you know everything! I'll trust your judgment.' Really, I didn't trust it for two seconds. Not on this. 'But only if you promise me three things: that you will keep your wand on you to defend yourself just in case anything does happen, that you will come to me if he or anyone else ever hurts you again, and that you will break up with him if he ever so much as touches you without your expressed permission.'

"Hermione glared at me. 'I don't have to promise you a bloody thing, Malfoy!' She stormed off and, before I could stop her, she disappeared into the floo.'"

All falls silent again. I am trying to calm myself after telling that story. If only I'd been able to get through to her that day, she might still be alive.

"Why didn't you ever go to the authorities about this? Domestic violence is never to be taken lightly." Clearwater finally asks.

"Oh, believe me, I tried. But no one would talk to an ex-death eater, even if I was found not guilty in the court of law. I tried going to her friends, too. The only one who would talk to me was Potter. Nearly had him convinced. But they don't call Hermione the smartest witch of her age for nothing. Bloody brilliant with glamour charms. And she was always so quick on her feet- made her a damn good liar."

"I see. Mr. Malfoy, I have one more question before I leave." I nod, telling her to continue. "You mentioned several times that this boyfriend is a muggle. Is that correct?" Again, I nod. "I don't see how he could be the killer, then. She-."

"The fuck he didn't! That-."

"Mr. Malfoy, please be quiet and listen to me! Now as I was saying, it just seems impossible. Hermione Granger was found dead in her flat in the wizarding London. No muggle would have been able to enter that building without both being accompanied by a person of magical blood, as well as being knowledgeable of the magical world. We have no records of Miss Granger ever enlightening a muggle, other than immediate family, of the existence of our world. So I just don't see how he could have done it, and you know the prosecution will be all over that if we accuse this muggle in court."

I'm stunned. It was him, I know it was! I just don't know how. "Could someone have lost the records? Or maybe someone stole them?"

"I'm afraid not. Our records are magically updated and protected. We would have known if someone took them. Nonetheless, I am going to do a bit of research on this boyfriend. What was his name again?"

"Chase Miller," I spit out his name. She jots the name down in her notes.

"Is there anything you can tell me about him to make finding him easier?"

I scan my brain for anything I know about him that might help. "Only that he's a muggle, he's a scumbag, and he's from America. Oh and that he's got 'the most beautiful blue eyes that you can just lose yourself in.' Hermione's words, not mine."

"Alright, then. I think that was a productive meeting. I will be seeing you again soon." She holds her hand out as a goodbye and this time, I shake it.

The guards have just opened the cell door to let my lawyer out when a question pops into my mind.

"Hey, Clearwater!" She turns around. "How did the Aurors know to go to Hermione's flat? I didn't think that the neighbors would have heard anything."

"No, it wasn't the neighbors. The Aurors got an anonymous owl informing them that, and I quote, 'Hermione Granger is dead in her flat in wizarding London. The culprit is still in there. Hurry."'


	3. Chapter 3

**As before, ICE NINE KILLS owns the italicized words. J.K. Rowling owns many of the characters, places, etc.**

I spend next four days in a depressed stupor. Dementors don't guard the low security cells or the holding cells anymore, but I don't think their presence would make a difference. The way Hermione looked the last time I saw her will be forever imprinted on the back of my eyelids. I see her every time I blink, every time I go to sleep.

_I'm not religious but I've learned to pray for her_ every day since her untimely death. Even if I don't believe in the muggle deity, I want to make sure I do everything possible to make sure she's ok, wherever she is. And she was always so steadfast in her belief of the existence of a higher being. The problem is I don't think she ever taught me how to pray, and if she did, I wasn't listening. So I wing it.

"Um, hello God, if you're there.

"I just wanted to make sure Hermione's ok. She's the most decent person I've ever met in my life, so you'd better be treating her well, or I will come after you when I die.

"Hermione told me once that you know everything about everyone. If you do, you probably already know what I'm about to say and you can just zone out for a minute. If not, then listen up. Everyone in the magical world thinks that I killed Hermione. _But the truth is that I never committed the crime, cause I, I could never hurt a fly._" I smile. "Hermione said that to me once. I found her after she got a particular brutal 'punishment' from that prick boyfriend of hers. I wanted to go after him and give him what he deserved. But Hermione wouldn't let me. She told me, 'Draco, don't. I know you. You might have been a bully when we were kids, and you might have been a Death Eater later on. But you are not violent; you never have been. I don't think you could even hurt a fly.'

"She was right, you know. _I'm not a violent man,_ but the thing is, _people can change. _And I have. My only goal is to get out of here and kill that sorry excuse for a man who destroyed my girl! The only problem is I'm stuck here. And by the way things are looking, I won't be getting out of here anytime soon. So I need your help. Hermione said you sometimes do things for people, and I need you to do me this one favor. Please, I'm begging you, and I'll have you know, Malfoys never beg.

"I hear someone coming, so I need to get going. Please take care of Hermione for me, and I will talk to you later, I guess." I think that went well.

About thirty seconds after I finish my chat with God, my lawyer comes into view. "Hello again, Mr. Malfoy," she greets as she waits for the guards to open the door to my cell.

"Clearwater," I nod in acknowledgement.

"How are you doing today?" She casually asks as she walks in and sets her briefcase down on my cot, the only piece furniture in my cell, and shuffles through its contents.

I glare at her. The girl I love just died, and I'm being blamed for it. How the fuck does she think I'm doing? "Peachy," I practically growl.

She looks up, startled by my hostility. Then, it dawns on her what she'd said. "I apologize, Mr. Malfoy; I did not mean to be insensitive. Of course you're not doing well."

Her attention returns to her briefcase, where she fishes out some papers. "As you know, I've been hunting down Chase Miller. He wasn't easy to find, but I finally located him in a muggle suburb on the outskirts of London. Unfortunately, his record is squeaky clean, and when I interrogated him, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He was polite, cooperative, and when I informed him of Hermione's passing, he looked properly shocked and heartbroken. I interviewed some of the witches and wizards that live in the area, and nobody had anything negative to say about him. On the contrary, all I heard when I would mention the name 'Chase Miller' was the highest of praises; they would just go on about how incredibly sweet and generous and wonderful he is. I'm afraid we've got nothing against him."

Chase Miller, sweet? "Are you sure you've got the right guy?" I mean, the man beat up his girlfriend. That doesn't sound very sweet to me, or generous, or wonderful.

"Positive."

"There's got to be something, the guy's a scumbag! Maybe you just didn't dig deep enough."

"I assure you, I'm doing the best I can. I'll keep looking though. Unfortunately, your hearing is tomorrow, so I've got to focus more on the rest of your defense."

For the next hour, we discuss my case. She asks me questions, tells me what to expect tomorrow, and instructs me on how to behave during the trial (I'm not allowed to talk at all) - by the end of it all my head is pounding. It's so much to take in at once.

Finally, she leaves, and I lay down for some much needed sleep. But, alas, as soon as I begin to doze off, I get a guest. Joy.

"Malfoy." My eyes snap open.

"What do you want, Weasley?" He's standing right outside my jail cell.

"Just thought I'd stop by before they hand you over to the dementors. People usually go mental stuck in here for too long, you see. Terrible." He doesn't look as if he thinks it's terrible. On the contrary, a malicious grin stretches across his sickly face at the prospect me of losing my mind.

"Well, if that's all, you can piss off now."

"Oh, no. I have another reason. You know, I always hated you-."

"Feeling's mutual, Weasley." I cut in.

"Right, but you know what? I put up with you, and you wanna know why?"

"Will you leave if I say no?" He glares at me. Apparently not.

"I put up with you because I cared for Hermione. She was one of my best friends. And I thought you cared for her, too. You certainly meant a great deal to her."

"Where is this going, Weasel?"

"You killed her! She trusted you and you turn around and beat her to death! I hope they let the dementors kiss you, because you deserve it!"

I lose it. One moment, I'm lying down on my sorry excuse for a bed, the next, I'm grabbing the neck of Weasley's robes through the bars. "I didn't kill her, Weasley, and I never hit her. You'd know more about it if you would have cared enough to listen to me when I tried to warn you about her boyfriend." My voice is dangerously low, and Weasley looks about ready to shit his pants. I let go, pushing him away in the process. "I think you'd better leave now." With a glare directed at me, he exits.

Finally, I get to sleep.

I'm startled awake by a high-pitched screeching. It turns out to be the cell door opening; I guess it's time for my hearing. Two meaty guards enter and motion for me to get up. When I do, the bald one roughly secures magic-restraining handcuffs around my wrists. The other one, who's taller and has short rust-colored hair, pulls out a butterbeer bottle and holds it out. Ah, so we're traveling by portkey. Baldy grabs my right hand with his left, and shoves it onto the bottle, while touching the portkey with his right.

The next thing I know, I'm standing in an enormous room, filled to the brim with people. The whole Wizengamet is seated in the front of the room, while hundreds of spectators take up the back of the room. The guards lead me to sit in the middle of the room, where a certain special chair awaits.

'This must be courtroom ten,' I muse. I've been in this room before, when I was on trial for being a Death Eater. It's the biggest courtroom in the Ministry, only used for high-profile cases, and is the only one that contains a chair with magical chains that bind up its occupant if his crimes are serious.

Sure enough, as soon as my ass hits the chair, the chains come to life, fastening around me so tightly, I can barely breathe.

Clearwater comes to stand next to me, and the trial begins. I don't bother paying attention. It's going to be the same as last time. The prosecution will bring up Dumbledore's death, my behavior in school, my family history, and maybe they'll have few new things to add. But their main focus will be the tattoo on my left forearm. Remind the Wizengamet of who I once took orders from, and they win, as simple as that. And this time, I don't have the golden trio testifying on my behalf.

Sure, Penelope Clearwater is a decent lawyer. She's put together a pretty good defense, even without finding dirt on Chase Miller. I'm not stupid enough to believe it will help, though. The Wizengamots' minds were made up before I even got here.

A sudden "Clang!" and an eruption of cheers jerk me out of my reverie. I didn't hear the Court's decision, but judging from the crowd's reaction, it wasn't in my favor.

I glance over at Clearwater, and her face is grim. "I'm sorry, Draco."

"Don't worry about it. We both knew this would happen."

She nods. "I thought so, sure. But I hoped that maybe having Harry Potter defend you would persuade them to let you go. Apparently even that isn't enough."

"Wait, Potter was here? And he defended me?" I mean, yeah he helped me during my last trial, and we've become almost friends since then, but I'd presumed that to be over now. I was being accused of murdering one of his best friends, after all.

"Didn't you pay attention at all?" I shrug. "Yes, he witnessed for you. He talked about how you and he are friends, and how different your attitude has been since the war ended. And when he told the court about how much you cared for her, and about the time you went to him about Hermione's boyfriend, I thought maybe we stood a chance in winning. I guess I was wrong."

The burly guards who brought me here come bumbling over to take me back to my cell.

"Don't worry, ok? We still have the sentencing." She says quickly before the guards take me away.

"When is it?"

"Monday."

**I just thought I'd say here that I hope I didn't offend anyone with the prayer scene, and if I did, I'm apologize. I didn't mean anything by it, I just thought it fit in with the song and the characters.**


	4. Chapter 4

**The band ICE NINE KILLS owns the italicized words. J.K. Rowling owns all characters, places, etc. that comes from Harry Potter, as well as the stories from The Tales of Beedle the Bard.**

I go to bed when I get back to Azkaban. As usual, Hermione's mangled form and glassy eyes plague my dreams. And like every other night, I wake up screaming her name. I don't think I will ever get used to seeing her like that, even if I have that same nightmare for the rest of my life.

Then I have the full day after the trial to waste. What is there to do in a 10x10 stone room, with no company, no books or games, and virtually no furniture? Now you see my dilemma. I spend a good two hours counting the rocks in the ceiling and walls, and I take an hour-long nap. Soon, I expend all my options, and I'm stuck with nothing to do. So far, I've been trying to avoid thinking at all costs, lest it turns to a more…unpleasant direction, but I figure this is probably my last day away from the dementors for a very long time. All I will be able to think about will be the worst times in my life, and I've got no short supply on those. So, for today, I should remember the good times, as cheesy as it sounds. Reminisce while I've still got something pleasant to smile about.

My father had always been adamant against showing emotions that he deemed weak, such as love. The punishments he inflicted when my mother or I displayed such emotion were severe. But when I was eight, my father went on a business trip out of the country, leaving my mother and me alone for several weeks. During that time, my mother had been the most affectionate she had ever been to me during my entire childhood. She sang me to sleep. She ran around in the gardens with me. She read to me silly kids' stories, such as Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump, The Tale of the Three Brothers and The Warlock's Hairy Heart. I had initially figured that my father did not want me to hear these stories because they were so incredibly childish. As I grew older, though, I began to suspect that this was not the case. Babbitty Rabbitty is about a power-hungry king, who ends up being thwarted by a rabbit. Not exactly something you want to tell your kid when you follow Lord Voldemort, king of the power-hungry. The Tale of the Three Brothers teaches that Death cannot be thwarted forever. Well, Lucius Malfoy couldn't let a story put it into his little son's head that even the immortal Dark Lord will be bested by Death!

I didn't start understanding the significance of the third story until I realized my feelings for Hermione Granger. But I don't think I truly appreciated it until now. The Warlock's Hairy Heart is about a handsome warlock who is determined to never fall in love. He uses Dark Arts to ensure he never does. One day, when he hears his servants talking about him lacking a wife, the warlock decides he will find a talented, beautiful and rich witch to marry, so that all will envy him. He quickly finds his target. She is both "fascinated and repelled" by him, but accepts his invitation for dinner at his castle. While they eat, the witch tells the warlock that she needs to know he has a heart. He takes her to the dungeons, and there, in a crystal casket, is a beating hairy heart- his heart. The witch begs him to return it to his chest, and he does as asked. She hugs the warlock. But, being apart from its body for so long, his heart has deteriorated to an animalistic state, acquiring savage tastes. So the warlock is compelled to take by force a truly human heart. He rips the heart from the witch's chest to replace the hairy heart, but finds he cannot use magic to remove his own. He uses a dagger to cut it out of his chest. And that is how both he and the witch die, with both of their hearts in each of his hands.

I think that through these stories, my mother was trying to communicate to me to not follow in my father's footsteps. I identify most with the last story, though. It makes me wonder, had it been too late for me? Despite my mother's warning, I had been enthralled by Dark Arts in my younger years. Maybe my heart was evil, regardless of my love for Hermione. Maybe, it was her closeness to me that got her killed…

No. That's ridiculous. It was her relationship to Chase Miller that killed her. I need to stop thinking about these stories, find something more pleasant to think about.

But what? Recalling any memory with Hermione hurts too much. Thoughts about the times when I'd hang out with friends during Hogwarts remind me that some of them are dead, and the others hate me now. I realize that I don't have many nice memories. I guess I'll take another nap, then.

The next morning, I'm woken up in much the same way as the day of my hearing. I'm startled out of slumber by Baldy and Rusty opening the jail cell door. They cuff me, and then we are off to the sentencing.

Again, the portkey transports us to courtroom ten. There are considerably fewer people in attendance this time, though. I am led to the special chair in the center of the room, which hugs me tightly with its magic chains. Clearwater stands by my side.

Minister Shacklebolt opens the sentencing, but it's Chief Warlock Cicero Vector who addresses my punishment.

"I want to make it plain right now that every one of us on the Council takes our jobs very seriously. We respect the system, as well as those who oversaw Mr. Malfoy's previous trial. Our decision is not based on his past, but on the facts given to us for this case alone. I want that clear to everyone." That is complete bullshit. There was very little against me, only the anonymous note and my presence at the crime scene. No, this decision was based purely on prejudice.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, I sentence you to ten years in Azkaban for the murder of Hermione Jean Granger. You will not be eligible for parole, and you will not receive time away from the dementors. This is the decision of the Court."

Shacklebolt rises as Vector sits. "The Court is adjourned." The sound of the gavel hitting the block reverberates across the room. I'm stunned. Ten years. Ten long years before I can avenge the woman I love.

I don't hear Clearwater's words of comfort; I don't notice being taken out of the room. I barely even feel the effects of the dementors when I am dumped onto the cold floor of my new home. Or at least, not at first.

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I'm six. My father just hit Mother. Why would he do that? I wanna tell him he can't do that to her, but then he'd hurt me too.

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It's second year. I just called Granger a mudblood. I'm pleased that it got to her, but then I see the expression on her face. She looks kind of like Mother does when Father hits her.

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I have Albus Dumbledore cornered. I really don't want to kill him. I don't have to. A flash of green light, and suddenly, he's falling.

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My father has escaped from Azkaban. Voldemort is not happy with him. He tortures my Father.

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The Muggle Studies professor is floating in front of me. The Dark Lord Kills her.

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My aunt Bellatrix is torturing Granger. I hear the screams.

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The war is over. Crabbe is dead.

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Hermione has a new boyfriend

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Hermione is in pain

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Hermione is dead

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"Hello, Draco."

'Who's Draco? Am I Draco?' I wonder.

"Yes, you're Draco. Draco Malfoy. I came by to see how you're holding out. Not good, apparently."

'I said that in my head. Can she read my mind?'

"No Draco, I can't read your mind. You're actually speaking out loud. And you know me. I'm Penelope Clearwater." I look up cautiously.

"My name sounds familiar, doesn't it? Don't worry, I won't hurt you. See this dolphin here? It's a Patronus. It protects us from the dementors, so that we don't have to have those bad thoughts."

I realize I'm lying in a ball on the floor. I try to stand up, but I can't. The lady helps me sit next to the wall. "You've been in here for nine and a half years, Draco. I'm not surprised that you lack the strength to stand."

"Where is here?"

"Azkaban Prison."

"Oh. Am I a bad person?"

"No! You were wrongly accused."

"Why hasn't anyone ever come to see me then?"

"They have. You just don't remember. I have visited you numerous times, and so have your mother, and Harry Potter, and I think Blaise Zabini has as well."

"Why am I here?"

"They think you killed someone."

"But I didn't, right?"

"Right."

"Who do they think I killed?" She looks like she doesn't want to answer.

"Hermione Granger." The name triggers something.

"I remember her!"

"You do?" She looks surprised now.

"Yeah! She was the mudblood bookworm." But I can feel something else in memories clamoring to be known.

"Maybe that's what you thought of her when you were kids, but when you got older, she became so much more."

"Really? What?"

"Well… she became a good friend of yours." Of course! After the war, she was always by my side. I fell in love with her, but never had the guts to tell her. She started dating a guy who turned out to be abusive. He killed Hermione.

"You said I've been in here for nine and a half years, right? How long do I have left?"

"Six months. Just hold tight, alright?" I nod.

Just six months left_. I'll be out in six months with his address and a shotgun and a promise for justice that night. _I will make him suffer!

'Hear that Hermione? Soon he will pay.'

Hermione had told me about muggle weapons, and they sound so much more satisfying then killing her murderer with a clean Avada Kedavra. Maybe I'll use a gun, although a knife sounds pretty good too. And, coming from a family that was deep into the Dark Arts, I know some of the most disturbing curses and hexes known to wizard-kind. Ah, decisions, decisions.

I hear Clearwater leave. I think that because of my day dreaming, she assumed that I'm not all there. I know I'm not mad though.

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Draco? Draco! I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you! I need you to come over here now! Please! Please help me!

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_Listen closely as I tell you I'm not who I seem. I'm gonna touch you cause I like it when you scream. I want to watch you when you're sleeping and thinking of me!_

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Hermione's bloody body is lying on the floor.

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_That son of a bitch took away my girl._

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I will tear him apart.

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Rip him limb from limb.

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Gouge out his eyes.

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Turn his skin inside out.

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Burn him with Everlasting Fire.

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Beat him to the brink of death.

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Who was it that killed her?

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I remember the name Draco. Was it him?

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A girl with a mane of brown hair hugs a boy with shocking blond hair.

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He attacks her and tears out her heart.

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He flicks his wand, but nothing happens.

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Another flick, and there's a dagger in his hand.

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He cuts out his own heart.

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He's lying next to the girl, a heart in each hand.

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Wait, I think I'm that boy.

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_Am I dead?_

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_Or am I still breathing?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Last chapter! I just wanted to thank everyone who read this story, and a special thanks to those who reviewed, alerted, or favorited my story. Those made my day. I've included the lyrics to The Greatest Story Ever Told by ICE NINE KILLS at the end of the story. Italicized words belong to ICE NINE KILLS, and characters, spells, etc. belong to J.K. Rowling.**

"Draco, honey, I've come to take you home." An older lady is crouching next to me, her hand on my shoulder. She has the same platinum blond hair as the boy who ripped out that girl's heart, as me. Is she my mum?

"Yes, dear, I'm your mother." She tries to help me stand, but I am too weak and end up almost crushing her. She sits me by the wall instead. Why does this routine seem so familiar?

My mother reaches into her robes and takes out an empty potions vial. "This will take us out of here, ok? Just hold on to it." She says as she takes my hand and gently places it on the vial. For a moment, I get the strange feeling like I'm being pulled from the navel. It stops suddenly and I fall to the floor, but the ground isn't hard and cold anymore. Actually, it's soft and fluffy and extremely comfortable. I don't bother getting up. I can lay here forever.

"Oh, no, darling, don't lie on the carpet, you're filthy! We'll just have Palmy clean you up, and then you can rest as much as you like. Palmy!" She calls out, but there's no one around to hear. Has my mother gone mad?

But then, with a loud "Pop!" a familiar-looking creature appears. "Mistress Malfoy, you called?" the creature bowed.

"Yes, I need you to make clean Draco up, then take him to his old bedroom."

"Master Draco? Oh it is you! Palmy is so excited! Palmy missed you so much!"

"I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"Master Draco doesn't remember Palmy?" The creature's ears droop and I immediately feel guilty.

"Palmy, Draco has been through a lot in the past ten years. I'm sure he'll remember us all after he gets some sleep. Draco, this is your house-elf, Palmy. It has been working for me while you were away."

I nod. Although I am still so confused, I'm too tired to ask any more questions. Hopefully my mother is right and I'll have my memories back in the morning.

I wake up the next day to the sun shining right in my face. It blinds me instantly; I'm not used to bright light yet. But the warmth… it's amazing. I haven't felt the sun's rays, or any kind of heat for that matter, in ten agonizing years. Merlin, I missed this!

I look around the room I'm in, my room back when I lived on this side of the manor. It's exactly the same: a king-sized bed with a silver bedspread in the center, several bookshelves lining emerald-green wall, a black leather reading chair in the corner, dark grey carpets, and a black dresser with numerous photos of childhood friends on top. When I came of age, I had moved to the west wing, while my parents, now just my mother, occupied the east. I'm glad that they had left this room untouched.

The sound of apparition breaks my reverie. "Yes, Palmy?"

"Master Draco, Mistress is wanting Master to meet her in the dining room for breakfast."

"Alright. Tell her I'll be down in fifteen minutes."

"Yes Master."

I go into the adjoining bathroom to get ready for the day. When I'm done, I go to grab my wand, before I realize that my wand is gone. The day I was convicted of Hermione's murder was the day that the officials at the Ministry snapped my wand. How am I going to do anything without a wand?

"How are you feeling today Draco?" My mother and I are eating the delicious breakfast that the house elves prepared. I scarf it down in a rather uncivilized manner. Hey, I haven't had a proper meal in ten years. Mother just looks on at my display in distaste.

"Much better Mother. I apologize about my behavior yesterday. I think the exhaustion was making me delirious."

"There is no need to apologize. I understand how trying an ordeal Azkaban can be. I'm just glad you're doing better." I nod in thanks.

"So I was thinking that, if you are feeling up to it, you and I could do a little shopping, and maybe get you a haircut. You are in desperate need of some new robes and a wand of course, and it would be nice if we could catch up a little."

"Mother, I can't get a new wand. Convicted felon, remember?"

She laughs- a sound I have rarely heard come from her. "Oh Draco, of course you can get a wand! We'll just have to wander a bit farther than usual."

It turns out that my mother was right. There is a large wizarding village outside of Barcelona, where a majority of the inhabitants have never even heard of the famous Hermione Granger and her killer Draco Malfoy. I am rather pleased with my new wand. Birch, Dragon Heartstring for the core, 12 inches long. It's a nice wand- shame it will be destroyed soon.

After we get everything we need, my mother Apparates home, but I have one more stop to make. I use the floo at the local pub. I don't want them to know I'm coming.

The Ministry of Magic is pretty much the same as it ten years ago. The statue of the witch and wizard sitting atop of muggles had been removed immediately after the war, replaced by a monument of Harry Potter's final face off with the Dark Lord. I pass by it on my way to the lifts. I have visited the Ministry many times with my father, so I know where almost all of the departments are located. I hit the button for level 2, and I'm off.

It's fairly late, maybe six pm, I pass few people on my way. I'm somewhat nervous that she might have left already, but she seems like the workaholic type, like Hermione.

Sure enough, when walk into Penelope Clearwater's office, I find the woman transfixed on whatever document it is that she's reading. She doesn't look up as a creep my way over to her desk.

"Hello Clearwater." I say as I stick my wand to her neck.

"Hello Draco, it's nice to see you again. I heard you were just released yesterday." She doesn't seem remotely frightened. She should be.

"You should be afraid. I could kill you right now. All I have to do is utter a few simple words, and you'd be dead."

"I don't think you'll kill me."

"That depends. I need information. If you give it to me, I'll let you go. If not… well I think you know the 'if not.'"

"What information are you looking for, exactly?"

"Chase Miller's address."

"You know, it's been ten years. He could have moved in that time."

I shove my wand deeper into her throat. "Don't care. Give it to me!"

She stands up slowly. I keep my wand pointed at her as she searches through numerous files. "Here it is." I grab the parchment with my left hand, with my wand still directed at her.

"I know what you're planning on doing Draco. You don't have to. Hermione wouldn't want you to throw your life away like this."

"You don't know anything Clearwater. And if I were you, I'd hold my tongue before the man with the wand changes his mind about sparing my life." With that, I turn on my heel and quickly make my way out of the Ministry before Clearwater has the chance to raise an alarm.

When I arrive back at the manor, I'm exhausted. I decide to skip dinner and head straight for bed.

When I wake up the next morning, I'm in the best mood that I've been in for a long time. For the first time in ten years, I didn't have nightmares about the death of the woman I love.

I get dressed quickly; I have a busy day ahead of me. I call Palmy to have it tell Mother that I will be out for the day.

As it is about to snap its fingers to Disapparate, I suddenly call for it to wait.

"Palmy, before you leave, I just wanted to say… thank you. For everything." Merlin, Hermione would be ecstatic if she could see me right now. The house elf looks confused.

"Palmy lives to serve the Malfoy name, Master." I nod and let it leave.

My first stop is Diagon Alley. The shoppers all give me a wide berth and suspicious looks when they see me, but I take no heed. I'm only here for one purpose: Salvia's Flowers, located a few stores down from the Magical Menagerie.

"Hello, dear. What can I help you with?" The shop's owner, Iris Salvia, asks when I enter the shop.

"Um, I want to buy flowers."

"Ok…Do you have anything in mind?"

"Well, she loved roses."

"Ah, roses are tricky. What color do you want? How many? These things matter, you know."

"Why would that matter?"

"Each color has a different meaning. What's the occasion?"

"She's dead."

"I'm sorry." I nod. "Well, what is the message that you want to say to her?" I'm thrown. I hadn't thought about that.

"I just wanted to say goodbye. And that I love her." She thinks for a moment.

"I think simplicity might get your message across best, then. How about intertwining a black and a red rose? It would be saying, 'I love you. Farewell.'"

"That sounds perfect."

"Alright, let me just get that for you. Would you like it to be everlasting?"

"Yes."

"Ok, that will be fourteen galleons."

My next stop is the cemetery. She was buried in a muggle one near her parents house. I search many tombstones before I come across the one that reads:

IN MEMORY OF

HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER

SEPTEMBER 19, 1979- MAY 21, 2000

BELOVED DAUGHTER AND FRIEND

AND WAR HEROINE

THE BRIGHTEST WITCH OF HER AGE

The last two lines are probably not visible to muggles. I think members of the magical community come to pay their respect to her. Her grave is overrun with flowers, many of which I recognize as magical.

I kneel and set my flowers before the gravestone, and before I could stop myself, I burst into tears. Deep in this earth, right here, is where Hermione lies.

"Oh Merlin, Hermione, I miss you so much! _I still can't believe that you're gone. I'm so lost!_

"You know every night, I dream of the night I lost you. That empty look in your eyes still haunts me. But last night, it was different. _Last night I dreamed we had a future and you were alive._ _It was springtime on our wedding day_; _there were birds in the sky. The sun was glowing it was beautiful and everyone was there. _You looked so beautiful in a wedding dress, Mione.

"Yes I dreamt of marrying you. I love you, Hermione. I have ever since our eighth year at Hogwarts. I just never had the courage to tell you- I couldn't risk losing you. Seems like I did anyways, huh? And now, I'll never see you again. Even if you're right about what comes after death, you would definitely be in Heaven right now, no doubt. Me though, I'm going to Hell. Even if all my past mistakes haven't been enough to condemn me, what I'm about to do will. But I've got to do this. I'm sorry, Hermione." I don't know what compels me to do so, but as I stand up, I kiss her headstone. "Goodbye, Hermione." I whisper softly.

My next stop is a muggle suburb outside of London. I check the parchment I got from Clearwater for the address and depart.

I apparate directly inside his house. No need for manners when I'm just gonna kill the man, right? I just hope he still lives here.

I find him in the kitchen. His back is to me as he eats his lunch. Hmm, I missed breakfast this morning. Maybe I'll have a bite when I'm done with Miller. But right now, I've got something a bit more important to focus on.

"Levicorpus!" The man flies up into the air by his ankle.

"What the fuck? Get me down!"

"You're Chase Miller, aren't you?" I'm looking closely at his face. I'm fairly confident that that it is him.

"I might be. Why?"

"You killed Hermione Granger." Even though, being upside down, all the blood is rushing to his head, he manages to turn pale.

I smirk. _"You'll be sleeping with the fishes tonight,_ Chase Miller. But before that, I'm going to torture you. You see, I'm a wizard. I have magical powers. I can cause you more pain than you ever thought possible. And when I'm done, _I'll slit your throat and drain your blood, and mail it to your mother so she'll discover what a mess you become. I think she might like that... cause I fucking do!" _And I laugh. Not a chuckle or a snicker, but a full-blown laugh. One that is extremely unfamiliar to me. Sure, I've laughed a few times in my lifetime, but this one is different. This is the laugh of a madman.

My moment of humor is cut short when Miller suddenly falls to the ground, a green jet of light heading in my direction. My eyes widen and I barely have time to dodge the spell.

"Oh, you didn't know? I'm a wizard, too!"

"How? Hermione told me you were a muggle… My lawyer even thought were!"

"I'm not surprised. See, my real name isn't Chase Miller. It's Chase Romain, wanted killer in the States. So I came here and changed my name. You'd be amazed how easy it is to pass as a muggle; you don't even have to lie. If no recognizes you from work or school, or sees you in a wizarding area, or doing magic, wizards will automatically assume you're a muggle. It's perfect!"

"Well it certainly explains a lot. Expelliarmus!" Miller, or Romain, or whatever the hell he's called, blocks the spell.

"You're going to have to do better than that!" He says, sending another nonverbal spell my way. This time, it hits my left arm. I can hear the crunching and cracking as the bones in my arm get crushed, but I don't feel it. The adrenaline in my system is blocking it out.

"Stupify!" Again, he blocks it.

"Really, this is the best you can do? And you expect to be able to avenge your darling Hermione? Pathetic!" He throws another spell at me, but this time, I block it. His casual mention of Hermione has rekindled my anger. If I can't get him with the conventional attacks, I'm just going to have to think outside the box.

"Serpensortia!" This time, Miller has no idea what to do. He's trying to keep his wand fixed on both me and the snake that I have just conjured. I smirk.

"Oppugno!" I yell, and the serpent attacks. It's biting his neck, his shoulders, anywhere it can sink its teeth into. Meanwhile, I stroll over and pick up his wand, which he had so kindly dropped for me when my snake pounced. I snap it in half.

"Alright, I think that's enough of that." And I get rid of the snake. "Can't have you dying before I get the chance to torture you properly, now can I?" Miller's a right mess. I'm worried he won't hold out to much longer.

"Now that we've got your wand out of the way… Crucio!" He's withering in pain, screaming for it to stop. I realize that his neighbors might hear and quickly cast a silencing charm around on the house. I don't want them to hear, but I want to listen to every cry of pain comes out of that pathetic man on the floor.

"You are a pathetic bastard. What kind of sick man beats up a woman? Were you trying to compensate for something? Are you not man enough, so you had to find a defenseless female to make you feel bigger? And then, to kill her? Crucio!" The curse is stronger this time .

"Stop! Please stop! I'm sorry, ok? I never meant to kill her!" It looks

"Sorry isn't going to bring her back! And you were already wanted for murder in one country, why would I believe that this was an accident?"

"I just get carried away sometimes. She was going to leave me. She said she didn't love me, that she loved someone else. It just made me so angry. I couldn't help it." She was trying to get away from him?

"Did she say who it was. That she… loved?" I can barely choke out the last word.

He looks at me in confusion. "I thought you would have known. I was so pissed that she would pick you over me, so I decided to frame you. That's why I sent that owl to the Aurors. To get my revenge on you for stealing her from me." I can't believe it. Hermione Granger loved me. She actually loved me! She was leaving her boyfriend for me, but…

"That's right, Malfoy. It's your fault she's dead. If she hadn't been in love with you, she would have stayed with me, and she would still be alive. You killed her." The words continuously ring in my ears. I have always known it was my fault that she was dead, but to hear it out loud, from someone else's mouth… it's devastating.

I see that Miller is losing a lot of blood, too much. He can't die yet. He needs to beg for it first, want it more than anything else in the world, need it more than air. Then, maybe, just maybe, I'll give it to him.

I heal some of his more serious wounds. He still has the poison working through his system, but now he won't keel over from blood loss. At least yet.

I aim my wand to his chest. "Bombarda!" His piercing scream as his ribs explode is the worst one yet. It's music to my ears.

A shard of bone must have pierced an organ, because his screams get cut off by him choking and coughing up blood. Disgusting.

"Please…kill me… Please!" He manages to get out between coughs. I smirk manically. Finally!

"No, I don't think I will. I'm not done with you yet. You deserve to feel every bit of pain that you inflicted on Hermione." I pick him up off the ground, only to punch him in the face. He immediately crumbles to the ground. I kick hit him again in the side. "You." I kick him in the stomach. "Worthless." I conjure up a shard of glass and shove it into his shoulder. "Piece." I kick him in that same shoulder. "Of." I kick him where the sun don't shine. "Shit!" He's blubbering like a scared little school girl.

"I don't think you've had enough yet, do you?" I point my wand to his left leg. "Diffindo." I cut off the top layers of skin. He looks like he's in complete agony. Good. I do the same to his right leg.

Unfortunately, my arm injury is beginning to make itself known. I'm going to have to cut this session short. "Crucio!" I scream. I hold the curse for several minutes, as Miller withers on the floor. Eventually, he passes out, and I release the spell. He's got no more than half an hour before the snake's venom takes its toll. I lift the silencing spell, and sit down in the seat Miller had been occupying before I'd interrupted. I'm famished.

Miller regains consciousness at about the same time I finish eating his lunch. He starts screaming starts as soon as he wakes. The poison is taking effect. I stand over his convulsing body as he slowly dies. This is what he deserves. A slow, painful death.

It takes about fifteen minutes for his screams to end. And the whole time, I stand beside him, watching. I wonder where the Aurors or the muggle police are. Someone must have heard him.

"Freeze! Drop the wand and keep your hands where I can see them." Ah, the Aurors have finally decided to show up.

I do as told. The Aurors take me to Azkaban and lock me in a holding cell. I'm not sure how long I wait before my lawyer arrives.

"Hello again, Mr. Malfoy."

"Clearwater, what are you doing here."

"Representing you, of course." I'm shocked. I threatened her at wand point, and she wants to defend me?

"Why?"

She studies me for a moment. "Draco, I know you wouldn't have actually killed me. You were desperate. I knew you would have found a way to get that address, even if it meant hurting a few people. It was best for me just to give it to you." She leans closer to me and whispers, "And between you and me, I think that son-of-a-bitch deserved what you gave him." She smiles.

"I'm not really sure what I can do at this point. You were found at the scene of the crime, again. They did Prior Incantato on your wand, and it was shown that you had performed the Cruciatus Curse last. They-"

"Get me the Dementor's Kiss." She looks stunned.

"What?"

"You heard me. I want the Kiss."

"But why?"

"I cannot stand the thought of spending any more time being stuck in here, being forced to dwell on my very worst memories. Even outside of the dementors' influence, all I can think about is her. And it hurts. I just don't want to care anymore."

"But Draco, it's the Kiss! We're talking about you losing your soul here!"

"I know. That's what I want."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Being my lawyer, Clearwater has to comply.

"Fine. I'll see what I can do."

.

It's been two weeks since I killed Chase Miller, aka Chase Romain. I had my trial and my sentencing about a week ago. Now I am in a moderately large stone room deep within Azkaban. Countless people today turned up to watch today's spectacle. I see a teary-eyed Penelope Clearwater sitting next to a beautiful blond woman- I think that's her girlfriend. Harry and Ginny Potter also turned up to watch. Neither looks particularly excited. Blaise Zabini is here, too. I never did get the chance to ask him about his visiting me in prison.

The rest of the audience looks thrilled to finally see the infamous Draco Malfoy receive the Dementor's Kiss. Ron Weasley is one of them. He actually has a front row seat. Several members of the Wizengamot came to see the show. Reporters have their quills ready, cameramen have their cameras prepared. The room is buzzing in anticipation.

Finally, I am strapped to an iron chair, and a dementor is brought in. I can feel the despair washing over me. It glides toward me. I can hear its raspy breaths. It's in front of me now. The stench of death on its breath is overpowering. It leans in, lowering its hood. The hole where its mouth would be is open wide. It clamps over my lips...

.

.

.

_**How could this happen?**_

_**Am I dreaming again?**_

_**Her body's not moving I'm assuming she's dead**_

_**This isn't a fucking game**_

_**There's somebody's love at stake**_

_**She's covered in bruises**_

_**But the truth is that I never committed the crime**_

_**Cause I, I could never hurt a fly**_

_**Then how'd she lose her life?**_

_**The denial**_

_**What you've implied has BURNED and stripped**_

_**The whites of my eyes**_

_**Then what went on that night**_

_**"Listen closely as I tell you I'm not who I seem.**_

_**I'm gonna touch you cause I like it when you scream**_

_**I want to watch you when you're sleeping and thinking of me"**_

_**And that's what he told her when he killed her**_

_**That son of a bitch took away my girl**_

_**He's gonna pay for it right now.**_

_**Cause you might think you're in love,**_

_**And he might promise you the world**_

_**Don't believe what he says,**_

_**He's not real, this is it.**_

_**Prepare for the day I find you**_

_**(This is your last chance)**_

_**I'll be out in six months with his address and a shotgun**_

_**And a promise for justice that night, (all right)**_

_**I'll be standing at the crime**_

_**So they can throw me back in prison for my life**_

_**If it would bring you back to me**_

_**Last night I dreamed we had a future and you were alive**_

_**It was springtime on our wedding day**_

_**There were birds in the sky**_

_**The sun was glowing it was beautiful and everyone was there**_

_**I still can't believe that your gone I'm so lost**_

_**I'm sorry, sorry don't go**_

_**Oh please god no**_

_**Cause you might think you're in love**_

_**And he might promise you the world**_

_**Don't believe what he says**_

_**He's not real, this is it**_

_**It's murder and this is it**_

_**C'mon c'mon**_

_**I think that I've had enough**_

_**He says, "Your too late**_

_**I've got a hole to dig**_

_**And you think that I've over-reacted**_

_**She was just so cute**_

_**I couldn't resist cause I'm a sucker for promiscuous action.**_

_**Cause you might think you're in love**_

_**And he might promise you the world**_

_**Don't believe what he says**_

_**He's not real he's a murderer**_

_**Cause I've been lying awake**_

_**From this nightmare and I feel betrayed**_

_**I gave my life**_

_**But you'd took it away**_

_**Am I Dead?**_

_**Or am I Still Breathing?**_

_**Cause you've stolen the one that I like**_

_**So you'll be sleeping with the fishes tonight, sleeping with the fishes tonight.**_

_**Now listen:**_

_**"I'm not religious but I've learned to pray (for her)**_

_**I'm not a violent man but people can change**_

_**So when you're sleeping**_

_**I'll slit your throat and drain your blood**_

_**And mail it to your mother**_

_**So she'll discover what a mess you become"**_

_**I think she might like that...**_

_**Cause I fucking do!**_

_**Cause you might think you're in love**_

_**And he might promise you the world**_

_**Don't believe what he says,**_

_**He's not real**_

_**He's a murderer**_

_**And you'll be lying awake**_

_**From this nightmare, feel betrayed**_

_**I GAVE MY LIFE**_

_**And you took it away**_

_**(There's not a day that goes by)**_

_**But you took it away x3 **_


End file.
